hi, no warnings that I can think of. enjoy the fam bonding.

Hyukjae reclined in a chair as he watched Meng Jia, wearing her gold dress with her hair and makeup expertly done. She looked as though she had already taken the throne as Empress, but her hands rested delicately on the hilt of a monstrously huge claymore in front of her. The tip of the large sword was nestled softly in the carpet, with enough pressure to keep upright, without slicing into the floor. The sword itself belonged to one of the special forces people that they had picked up, and Hyukjae told himself that he really shouldn’t be surprised that it was offered as a temporary prop to increase the symbolism of her announcement. They were just waiting for the signal that the communications connection to the main hub of broadcasts had been fully connected, and Zhou Mi kept the small, handheld camera focused on her. When the white light lit up, Meng Jia took a deep breath, her gaze steady.

“I challenge you, Zhou Li, to the honorable tradition of champion battle. Not only have you not gone to pray to the ancestors as is your duty, but your claim to discovery of this world that I stand upon is false. My cousin was exiled, your own doing, and he passed the claim to me, proving that I am the true holder of the Mandate. You have one farn to respond to this challenge, or everyone will see the true cowardice that you possess,” she finished, her voice nearly drenched in contempt and a small, delicate sneer on her lips. After a second, her face smoothed out into an earnest, warmer expression. “People of the Empire, my loyal subjects, I swear to you that I do not desire the needless deaths that would occur with war, but if my challenge is not responded to we have no other choice.”

“You carry it into battle with you?” Donghae asked quietly beside him.

“Aye, it’s something of a good luck charm,” a voice answered quietly back. Hyukjae glanced over, trying to see if there was a name tag on the uniform so he could put a name to the voice. All he could definitely spot was the United Kingdom flag patch, so he shrugged to himself and leaned back.

“It does not become burdensome?”

“Sometimes, but it can come in handy when people aren’t expecting it.”

Donghae nodded. “I can understand that strategy.” The conversation taking place beside him made him miss any concluding remarks Meng Jia was making and he only realized that she was done when Zhou Mi spoke.

“Well done, cousin.”

Hyukjae looked back at the central podium to see Meng Jia flash Zhou Mi a relieved smile and lift the claymore into her hands. The sword looked comically large and heavy against her frame and dress, but she carried it easily to the man next to Donghae. “I thank you for the use of this weapon, Jack Hill.”

He nodded his head as he stood and sheathed the large sword, fastening it across his back. “My pleasure, Empress. Like I said, the symbolism was a little too good to pass up, as was the resemblance to Queen Elizabeth.”

“She was one of your leaders?” Meng Jia asked, her head tilting curiously.

“Yes, and as much as we Scots don’t like the English, Elizabeth the first was a hard woman in a hard time, and I have to respect that.”

“So what do we do now?” Samuel asked curiously.

“We wait for a response within the next farn,” Meng Jia replied, shrugging a shoulder.

“Okay can you explain the process a little more, what happens?”

“If Zhou Li does not respond, then the peace the Empire is now in is broken, and we move towards Yangshi and invade the remaining worlds loyal to him. If he responds and denies the challenge, then the same thing occurs. If he responds and accepts, then we travel to Changan in peace and the champion battle will take place for rulership,” she explained as she sat down in a chair almost sideways, resting her arm along the back of the chair and placing her chin down on it.

“Who rules the Empire could be decided by two people?” Hyukjae asked, slightly horrified.

“The champion battle is an ancient tradition, usually used when there was a boy child that had been crowned Emperor of a crumbling dynasty that no longer had the Mandate. The child Emperor was innocent in the plots of adults, and many people who would be killed in the course of war were saved by this method, which is how the Empire has flourished,” she explained, her voice steady.

She paused, biting her lip briefly, and Hyukjae guessed she was trying to put into words some aspect of the culture she just knew. “Each dynasty would send a champion, and they battle each other until one is defeated. Some previous dynasties, knowing that they were at an end, would send an elderly soldier so that the battle could be quickly decided and the Mandate passed with honor. If the combatants are more evenly matched, then it is accepted that the Mandate is with whoever wins, be it the challenger or the challenged.”

“That seems like a lot is left up to luck instead of merit,” Hyukjae commented.

Meng Jia shrugged. “It is the nature of the Mandate.”

“So if you win, then it seems like we won’t have much to do,” Samuel said, his voice rising at the end to indicate it was more of a question than a statement of fact.

“Your groups will have much to do still,” Zhou Mi returned, his voice reassuring. “There will still be lingering loyalties on Yangshi and upon other worlds that will need to be pacified. There is also no certainty that Zhou Li will respond.”

Samuel nodded. “We can live with that.”

Once they were back on the flagship, Hyukjae was slightly surprised by Meng Jia hanging back and asking him, Donghae, and Zhou Mi to a meeting in Wang Xian’s suite, and to bring Amber and Song Qian with them in a standard. Assured that they would gather, she nodded and swept out of the hangar, people bowing in her wake.

A standard later, Hyukjae was looking at the dark liquid in the glass he held skeptically for a moment before sipping at it. The sweet, fruity taste exploded along his tongue, and the only comparison he could think of was a combination of strawberries and sugar as he swallowed the liquid.

“It is bushi, very rare and used for special occasions,” Donghae whispered to him.

Hyukjae nodded and rubbed his thumb over Donghae’s knuckles. His eyebrows arched slightly as he felt the sudden punch of the alcohol in the drink. “Wow it’s got a kick to it,” he whispered back, eyeing the drink in a new light.

“That amount is enough to intoxicate you.”

Hyukjae’s smirk rivaled Donghae’s. “Trying to get me drunk and have your wicked way with me?” he teased lowly, leaning over the side arm of his chair towards Donghae.

“I believe I already have, but I am amenable to watching you pleasure yourself on me again. It does not require intoxication to have you and willing for me.”

Hyukjae melted a little as Donghae kissed him lightly, his body throbbing with remembered pleasure. Looking up as he heard the door open, he smiled at Amber, who was quickly followed by Meng Jia, Wang Fei, and most surprisingly of all, Zhou Mi’s mother, Meng Xia.

“My apologies for the delay,” Meng Jia said, brushing a few strands of hair off of her face.

“It is understandable with your position, Empress,” Wang Xian replied, his voice slightly formal as Zhou Mi stood to greet his mother.

“Xixi, we’re all comrades in private,” Wang Fei chided playfully as the door slid shut behind her. “You don’t have to put on your Fleet Commander act, especially in your own suite.”

Wang Xian snorted a quick laugh and leaned back, his posture relaxing. “Then you can pour the bushi yourself, Sister.”

“Brat.” Wang Fei sniffed, but she did so with a fond smile and quickly poured three glasses of the drink, handing one to Meng Jia.

“As I do not currently have a formal council to assist me, I gathered all of you together as I trust your opinions and insights,” Meng Jia said after she had taken a slow, careful sip. “I ask for your recommendations for the champion if the challenge is accepted.”

“Me,” Zhou Mi immediately said. “I will not allow any other.”

“A rather bold claim, Mimi,” Fei said, her eyebrows raising as Meng Xia coughed, the bushi apparently having gone down wrong.

“Mi,” Meng Xia started, a motherly note of warning in her voice.

“Only the twins have a previous grievance against Zhou Li, and if I am correct in my guess about who would be sent, they would not be able to do what I can,” Zhou Mi said forcefully, his voice silencing his mother.

“Who would he send?” Song Qian asked.

“One of my cousins, I suspect. Though I am not aware of any official announcement, it is most likely that he chose one of them to become heir after my exile.”

“We cede the right of grievance to you for that reason,” Amber said. “It is agreed that he would send someone that a challenger would feel hesitance about harming and hope to win with that strategy. But we are going with you as the champion’s retinue.”

Zhou Mi took a sip of the bushi. “I would be unable to dissuade you all?”

“Our lives are entangled,” Song Qian stated.

“Where one goes, we all go,” Hyukjae agreed.

“All right. If my favorite cousin would care to grace us with her approval,” Zhou Mi teased with a curve of his lips that made Meng Jia smile and shake her head fondly, “we can begin preparations.”

“Do you think he will accept the challenge?” Wang Xian asked.

“He would be a fool to not accept or ignore it. He is already earning distrust from not going to pray to the Empire’s ancestors, no matter what excuse he gives. To ignore or decline would turn many more against him,” Meng Xia said, her noble personality cracking either due to shock or from the bushi.

Hyukjae grinned. “But it would make our job a lot easier, people would practically invite us in.” He instinctively looked around when he heard a soft chime, but Wang Xian tapped at the small table beside him.

“Yes?”

“Commander, it is Communications, there is a broadcast from Zhou Li.”

Hyukjae felt his stomach flip, and he slid his fingers in between Donghae’s to try and settle himself.

“Play broadcast throughout the ship, including my personal suite.”

“Confirmed.”

A small hologram flickered to life on the table beside Wang Xian. To him, Zhou Li literally looked like an older, meaner version of Zhou Mi, dressed in darker military clothes that contrasted sharply with the shock of white hair on his head, his hand resting threateningly on the weapon holstered at his still-narrow waist.

“Your threats do not shake me, you impudent girl,” Zhou Li spat. “The champion battle will take place in two farn. You can take your empty promises and accusations to the grave.”

The image flickered out abruptly, leaving the room in silence.

“What a distinctly unpleasant individual,” Song Qian commented, her voice slightly muffled by her glass as she took a sip of her drink.

“Yes,” everyone aside from Hyukjae chorused, their voices a mix of resignation and anger.

“Well, that’s that,” Hyukjae said, shrugging. “When do we leave?”

“We are less than a farn away from Changan, but if memory serves, we will need to leave promptly to allow time for the proper rites and rituals to be observed,” Wang Xian answered.

“That sounds formal,” Hyukjae said, frowning.

“Yes, we will need to fashion formal wear for you three from the fabric we purchased,” Zhou Mi replied.

Hyukjae wrinkled his nose for a second before bouncing up, a thought occurring to him as a small holographic Earth spun slowly over the table. “Oh! We’re here, at Earth. I have formal clothes already made planet side. Give me less than a standard to go pick them up and then we can go, that way we can save some of the fabric.”

“I will go with you,” both Donghae and Amber said in unison, startling each other for a brief second before they exchanged grins.

“Frugal as always, Hyukjae,” Song Qian teased, her finger circling the rim of her glass.

Hyukjae grinned. “The fabric we bought is high quality, and there’s no need to make something that I’ve already got.”

Zhou Mi stretched, finishing his glass of bushi in one long drink. “I will go with you as well to ensure that the temple priests will not have objections. Song Qian?”

She nodded. “I will attend. I do have to admit some curiosity about the area where you were raised,” she said to Hyukjae. “Other engagements can be postponed.”

Hyukjae shrugged. “It’s nice, but I probably need to get Mom and see where she stored all of my stuff.”

“Let us proceed with that plan before we break orbit from your planet,” Wang Xian said, speaing to Hyukjae. “We will still keep a detachment here in case Zhou Li is treacherous and refutes the peace.”

He gave Wang Xian a grateful smile. “Thank you. We’ll be back soon.”

To Hyukjae, a lot of the ceremonies and rites before the champion battle were similar to Chuseok, but just different enough to keep him vaguely unsettled and disoriented. He kept his hands folded in his lap as he watched Meng Jia, resplendent in a red and gold dress she had borrowed from Wang Fei, bow her head to the floor, her hair pins clinking against the stone.

She was in front of a large blueish-white wall with candles flickering all along the expanse, each candle located next to the names of all of the former rulers of the Zhang Empire. Many of the names had smaller honorifics beside them, but that writing was too small for Hyukjae to make out from his vantage point. He shivered slightly as another gust of cold air came in through the non-insulated temple and chilled him briefly before the thermals he had on under his hanbok regulated the temperature against his skin. He was grateful that the rites had little movement to them, since they were literally atop a mountain and the air pressure was much lower, making it feel like much more work to just breathe.

He glanced at the priests going through their ritual motions of prayer, t